


The Wild Witch of Exandria

by sarenraesbesthope



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: A little bit spoilery if you haven't gotten to Vecna, AU, And make Keyleth play the long game, Background Relationships, Gen, Written before the end of the Vecna arc, i tried to be sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 02:40:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12355773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarenraesbesthope/pseuds/sarenraesbesthope
Summary: What would have happened if Keyleth was the only one to survive the second battle with Vecna?





	The Wild Witch of Exandria

It had been who knows how long since Vecna had taken the material plane. The world twisted into a grey and lifeless place where most people did anything to survive. Only a few places were left untouched – the deep wilderness even the god himself knew better than to disturb and the few places where planes touched that were heavily guarded from intruders.

Children were warned away from going too far into canopy of twisted trees – citing that something lurked within the shadows. Something that could change shape and held no mercy for anyone who had allowed Vecna to enter the world. There was no hiding from whatever it was – it seemed to be everywhere and nowhere. The only reason they knew it was the same thing was telltale marks – a few feathers in the fur, a raven’s skull draped around its neck and a few other trinkets scattered across the body of it. Her companion never changed for a good long while – a bear that began brown and turned to grey at the end of its unnaturally long life. Then it became ravens and crows and all sorts of dark clever birds that filled the trees around her should she stop for you.

Only fools would dare enter the domain of the Wild Witch. And she would be a fool to leave it. She knew what was out there waiting for her should she even entertain the thought of leaving. Heartbreak, sadness and death. Things that had plagued her for decades. She was perhaps one of the last people to remember Exandria before the rise. Her flaming hair was no longer the bright coppery red, instead the strands were dull and beginning to streak with grey.

The Witch drifted through parts of her forest, her hand outstretched to the trees to try and hear their voices. Since Vecna however, it seemed that nature itself had coiled deep inside the earth. It didn’t stop her from trying daily, trying  _ everything _ . Since she had failed to keep her people safe, she’d banished herself to the forests and she tried to seek comfort in things that once brought her joy to no avail.

There were other rumors about the Wild Witch – ones whispered and hidden and only spoken in small circles. Rumors based on myth and hope. These whispers could get someone killed if spoken in the wrong ear.

 

* * *

 

 

One such fool who heard the rumors ventured out into those accursed woods and found a clearing. Perfectly circular, the ground was ash and rocks; as if something flaming fell from the sky. The young man set up his campsite the best he could – rickety tent barely held together and a pitiful fire to keep warm by.

He must have fallen asleep because when he opened his eyes, the sky was dark and across the fire from him was a giant bear. Struck with fear, he watched as the bear drew closer and separated into two. One transformed into a woman – grey streaks in her hair and a strange symbol around her neck of a woman with arms and wings outstretched.

The woman stood, graceful as she moved towards the young man. “Are you a fool with hope or just a fool for entering the woods?” Her voice crackled like the flames of the dying fire before her. As she reached him, the fool could see claws elongating from her fingertips.

“A fool with hope if you’ll have me, Wild Witch.” The words were stuttered in fear.

“How will you prove to me that you are hopeful?” The woman raised her hand, the sharp claws clicking against the bird skull and symbol around her neck.

The fool stuttered some more and the Witch could feel her patience waning and her companion’s paranoia begin to kick into gear. A snuffle sounded behind her as the bear shifted and looked around to keep an eye on his mistress. Just as she reached the fool, he sputtered out a name – “Kaylie Trickfoot told me in a tavern.” The witch tilted her head in thought. “She said to tell you the Meat Man’s daughter is doing what she was asked and hopes to once again see Saranrae rise again.” She stopped; her thoughts passing by on her face.

“That must be what she’s calling herself this year.” The witch chuckled and suddenly brought her face within inches of the young man’s. He yelped as he felt a hand on his wrist and in the next second, brightness and grass surrounded the two.

“Welcome to the Feywild young fool.” The witch’s hair glinted better in the twilight sun, and it was almost as if he could see the years melt off her. She shook her hair out and gestured for the young man to follow her down the path not too far away. Hope was rising. The Wild Witch had been building an army of believers. She began to walk, knowing how this part of her strange recruitment went. The young man sputtered some more before tripping over himself to follow her.

“Wh-who are you? What do you mean we’re in the Feywild?” The witch turned to look at her new companion. His eyes were wide in wonder and uncertainty. She knew that the Feywild was awe-inspiring with the various hues of a dawning sky.

“All who meet my companion and come to find me show themselves ready to return our plane back to its former glory. I bring them to the Feywild to train. Time here… is different. We are given more time here than we would in ours.” He could tell she was avoiding the other question and that she would probably keep her identity a secret for a good long while yet. “It also keeps you from going back and tattling on us to the authorities. Even if you hoped to go back as a spy of our efforts, we would just release you to find your way through the Wilds. And you would never get past the werewolves. Or the pixies.” She paused a moment, “or the nymphs or the other residents.”

The young man continued to walk with the witch for a good while longer, taking in her posture. In the material plane Wilds, she looked giant and imposing, her cloaks and hair making her a terrifying figure. Here in the twilight colors, the witch looked more natural; the leaves on her outer cloak laid nicely together like feathers of a multicolored bird. Her bear seemed more jovial as well – it frolicked from the path into the grass, causing it to change colors. It took him a few more minutes to remember his first question. “You never told me who you are.”

The witch turned around, her face looking even younger than when they first entered the Feywild. “It’s Keyleth. Of Vox Machina and the Air Ashari.” Her features pinched and unshed tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. “The only ones who remember me are the ones who knew me in my previous life. Like the companion you met in that tavern.” She looked over at the bear, her stare going past into the distance as she remembered that final battle.

 

* * *

 

 

Vox Machina was gone. She and Grog were the only two to make it out of the second fight alive. Vax was the first to fall – Vecna recognized his enemy’s champion and made sure to sweep the half-elf away as soon as he could. Keyleth lost control then; she lost almost everything in one moment and it broke her. Vex had fallen not long after and Keyleth wished to believe that her lover’s twin had no inkling that Vax waited for her and that it was a surprise when they both reached whatever was on the other side for them.

Pike went next, clutching her holy symbol with a prayer for warmth and guidance to Sarenrae on her lips. The goddess must have answered because Keyleth swore there was a slight upturn in the gnome’s mouth as if she had seen something comforting before the light left her eyes. Scanlan followed his cleric with a vicious whip of a song as Vecna turned his gaze to the bard and Keyleth didn’t dare watch her friend fall. Vivaciousness extinguished, a fleeting thought in her head passed by about Kaylie and what she would go through again.

Percy took his death with grace. The young lord had his eyes on his  _ wife –  _ a whispered dying word said to Keyleth as she tried to heal him and bring him back to Cassandra – as Vecna sent a wave of undead toward him. Something knowing flashed in his face before he turned it up to the sky almost as if he was waiting for Vex to swoop in on her broom with one of her ever-ready lines ending with darling. Keyleth forgot for a moment and looked with him, her heart cracking even more as she saw the empty expanse of greyness.

Keyleth barely got to Grog and plane shifted them to the Fey Wild for the second time. It was difficult for her to leave her friends and to force Grog to leave as well. The fury that the enlargened Goliath had was astronomical. Trees, grass, anything in his path was destroyed in the blink of an eye. His outward emotion was the same that Keyleth found within herself but she was too stunned to even consider acting out.

 

* * *

 

 

Later, when they knew it was safe, they would go find their friends’ bodies to bring pieces of them back. The skull Keyleth had gifted to Percy found itself around her neck; Pike’s symbol of Sarenrae went to Grog and surprisingly, they found another on Scanlan. Feathers from both Vax and Vex were gathered. The necklace that held Trinket was brought as well – a happy surprise when they found the bear still within the pocket dimension and only in need of a little healing.

Grog didn’t wait to try for revenge. Keyleth would never know what happened to her barbarian friend after they went their separate ways. After he tore a hole in the forest around them, she never saw him again. And Keyleth mourned the loss of her family, both Vox Machina and the Air Ashari. After she got back to the material plane, she visited Zephra. Keyleth found everything destroyed.

Everything from the village to the cliffs was razed to the ground. And it broke her further. It drove her to the forest in the center of Exandria. She disappeared for decades to grieve. And after? She was left with anger. She was left with bitterness. And a tiny sliver of hope. And a half-cocked idea that might just change the world.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I really hope that you all enjoyed this! I had it sitting in my WIP folder for ages (if you couldn't tell) and the recent ending of the campaign made me want it in the light. Keyleth is one of my favorite characters and diving in to her head was thrilling. I found the best way to read this was to listen to Strange Trails by Lord Huron! It gives just enough of the creepy vibe I wanted!


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